Kim (Stark) Amberg

KIM (STARK) AMBERG My impressions about my life adventure in Puerto Rico began, in some way, even before we landed on her shores, I would say. We boarded a ship---a Navy ship, no less—in New York on the tail of Hurricane Donna. It was during this voyage that I got a glimpse of the way the Army does things. Even though there were many sick passengers due to the rough seas, the strict Army regimen prevailed in the way people were allowed to have their meals. It didn’t matter how sick someone was at his designated meal time, if he felt more capable of eating at a time that was not assigned him, he just had to wait until his next assigned time. That was the beginning of what were to be other eye-opening observations of what it meant to be in the Army’s sphere of influence. Others that began that journey with me on the ship were Cathy Sivils and Trevor Williams. One of the ways that I felt the rigor of Army life occurred every evening at dusk. I may have heard “Taps” in my lifetime, but the requirement to stop what you were doing outside and to face the flag while “Taps” played was certainly a new experience. In fairness, if we were inside our homes, that requirement didn’t hold true. The idea of Officers’ Wherry where we lived was also part of the way Army life worked on the base. It was a relatively small, remote area with Front, Middle and Back Streets and small, but adequate, concrete houses lining those streets. In the past I knew about officers and enlisted men, but had no experience of the way the segregation really worked—especially when it came to living circumstances. Another surprising infusion of how the Army influenced our lives was when my brother got into some sort of trouble on the base. My dad was called before the general to discuss the issue. I never thought my dad answered to anyone and it struck me as an intrusion into private matters, but then it seemed that nothing is private when living on an Army base! So, my first impressions included what I would call “the Army influence”. As a “Coastie” family we were not really hard-wired into the way of Army life, rank and regimentation. My dad was a Coast Guard pilot after serving on ships and then going to OCS and flight school. The Coast Guard experience was, from my perspective, much softer and easier going that either the Army or Air Force service life. Soon after arriving in Puerto Rico another part of what life can, and sometimes does include, is untimely death. Trevor’s brother died in a freak incident within weeks of our arrival and it showed me that death can come at any time; that there are dangers to be reckoned with along the way. It was also around that time that I’d learned that Butch’s brother had also died in a freakish way. I believe that before that time, I’d never known anyone who had died. It wasn’t long afterwards that we all got to experience death in a big way: the assassination of President Kennedy and then the Viet Nam War. It may be that each generation gets a big dose of reality with wars and unsettled world situations, but it was all pretty shocking to me at the time. The most intense first impression in my new life came when I went to a public swimming pool. Having moved to Puerto Rico from North Carolina and Texas before that, we experienced the usual life of prejudice, discrimination and segregation. There was not real interaction with black people and any intermingling was infused with the mindset of difference and inequality. 1 So, when I went to the pool that first time, my breath was taken away by the sight of white and black people swimming together. Imagine that! I am grateful for the shock of that experience because it was so uncomfortable that it made me determined to understand and counteract it. Within short order I became virtually color blind and embraced many opportunities to learn and share life without discrimination or prejudice. I have to give my parents some credit for allowing the relationships I chose, regardless of color and despite my dad’s growing up in Alabama. I believe that this aspect of my Puerto Rican experience has been the deepest and most long lasting. To this day I find myself reflecting on how easily biased we can become by limiting our world, internal and external. I am grateful that what I have been able to do with these reflections is to pass down the virtues of exploration and open mindedness to my children and grandchildren. Ultimately, the most important gift I received from living in Puerto Rico has also blessed those most important in my life. 2 GIN (LINDSEY) COLE I arrived in Puerto Rico in mid-1959 and left in early summer 1962, making my years in San Juan the glorious junior high ones at the old Antilles on the Naval Air Station. I jotted down some memories in no particular order of time or importance and would like to precede them with Mark Twain's words: "I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it." Well, here goes: Quarters TT crinolines dyed peau de sois shoes teen club white station wagon "O" Club pool, movies, and snack bar weekly history class rankings swim meet bus trips Brig—Vacancy slumber parties Aquacades Saturday shopping in Old San Juan Christmas cruise to Panama piano lessons merengue Sorry, Wrong Number Gin (Virginia) Lindsey Cole 3 DAN COPELAND Sometime late 1959, Ft Gordon, Georgia – Dad got orders for Alaska! Wow, Alaska! The hunting, the fishing, the cold! I went to the post library and checked out virtually every book they had on Alaska and started reading. A couple of weeks later Dad got another stripe, and the orders to Alaska were cancelled. Talk about bursting the bubble. Then in a few more weeks he got orders to Puerto Rico. The only thing I knew about Puerto Rico was that there were a lot of Puerto Ricans at Ft Gordon, and some went to our school in Blythe, and some went to the black school. So went back to the library and checked out all the books they had about Puerto Rico and the Caribbean. No hunting, but fishing, diving, beaches, and NO COLD. So we head for PR, stopping in Texas for a month, where I spent over a week in bed with the Asian flu. Landed at Ramey AFB, sometime in January ’60, where we took a bus to Ft Buchannan. I’ll never forget that ride. We paralleled the beach for most of the trip and every so often a break in the trees would provide a quick glimpse of palm trees, white sand, and blue water. I had seen the ocean before, in France and Charleston SC, but there had been no palm trees and certainly no blue water. I knew immediately I was going to like this place. We were assigned luxury accommodations at BHA, Buchannan Housing area. We had lived in a trailer park for four years at Gordon, so space-wise this was a big improvement, but space was the only thing that was good. Pretty close to tenement living. Quickly Met Billy F, a hillbilly kid from Tennessee, Frankie R, a Mexican kid from Texas, and Willie W, a black kid from Louisiana. We soon formed a business partnership, washing the aluminum shutters in BHA quarters. Brought the crew to our place for a sandwich once, and was told by my dad that Frankie and Willie were not welcome in our house. First time I ever buckled up to Dad, though I did not win. Ironically, when we transferred to El Paso, Frankie’s dad had also been transferred there. We were staying with a cousin while buying a house. I invited Frankie over, and was told by my cousin he was not welcome there. I thought prejudice had been left behind in Georgia, but obviously not. Took the school bus to the Naval Station. Hmm, sort of looked like BHA, big barracks type buildings. Oh, they WERE barracks. At Blythe, Georgia, the 8th grade was still Elementary, so we had the same teacher for everything. But here we actually changed classes with different teachers, which I thought was big time! My first week there while waiting for the bus to Buchannan, someone suggested getting mangos. Had no idea what they were, but first bite was true love, and they are still one of my favorite fruits today. Also saw my first and I think biggest iguana ever that day, at least three feet long. First impression, I liked the school. There were a lot more kids than were at Blythe, and here most kids were military brats. We were used to being moved around to different schools, even different continents. But there seemed to be a totally different attitude from the kids here. I guess it was the fact that we were in the tropics, and everyone was in a mild state of shock – which I think lasted until we left the island. 4 I remember Mr. Vaught for English, Mr. Looper for Science, Coach Hedrick for Civics and PE, Mrs.

Load more